


Decommissioned: The Fall of Chat Noir

by The_Devils_Rep



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-27 18:32:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6295228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Devils_Rep/pseuds/The_Devils_Rep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following a number of close calls, Chat Noir finds his usefulness called into question by himself, the media, and even his lady. Being deactivated and replaced by the council only confirms his irrelevance. But with the delicate balance held between him and Ladybug gone, it could be what Hawkmoth needed to take control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Clang_

The strike of the hammer against the surface of the metal echoes throughout the empty chamber. The crack of thunder is lost in the background; but the marble walls carry the low rumble as it reverberates through the dark room. It’s only occupant pays it no mind, focusing solely on his task.

_Clang_

He strikes the lump of metal, turns it, strikes it, and repeats. And slowly, it begins to take shape, until he’s finally satisfied. Raising the red-hot object, the man dips it into a nearby barrel of water, where it cools with a _hiss_ , lost in a cloud of steam. When it dissipates, he’s holding a round, golden brooch, with brown feathers circling a smoky quartz gemstone. He inspects it carefully, before closing a hand around it with a wry smile.

Slipping it into the depths of his cloak, he sweeps from the room, out into the howling storm. Head bowed, he hurries down a worn path, deep into a dark forest. He hikes along, only pausing to occasionally check on the brooch, before continuing on his journey, head bowed. The forest grows darker, the occasional howl pierces the night, but he pays no mind.

Emerging from the woods, he comes to a rocky outcropping overlooking a valley. An ancient looking altar sits atop, and he hurriedly climbs, reaching into the depths of his cloak to retrieve the brooch, as well as an eagle’s feather. Placing them on the plain altar, he reaches up to pull back his hood, revealing a middle-aged mad with greying-brown hair. His grey eyes gleam, almost hungrily, as he lays the eagle’s feather across the brooch, and waits for midnight.

He feels a subtle tremor run through him, and he knows the time has come. The thunder roars even louder, but he raises his hands to the heavens, chanting in an ancient tongue. The rain drenches him, trees bow to the wind, but he perseveres, finishing his chant with hands outstretched.

A moment passes. The wind stills, and all is eerily silent.

Suddenly, the wind picks up again, even stronger than before, and the dark clouds are parted by a bolt of lightning. It arcs down, striking the brooch with a flash, almost knocking him over. It’s followed by more, repeatedly striking the brooch, until the man is forced to close his eyes from the flashes, lest he be blinded.

Eventually, the strikes cease, and he slowly opens his eyes, inspecting the brooch, which is steaming from the strikes. The feather has disintegrated, but the gemstone in brooch seems to glow with an unearthly light, and when he picks up the brooch, there’s a flash, and a small creature appears, dropping into his hand. The being is semi-humanoid, with arms and legs (though they lack any digits), and is brown, with a white head, and has tiny wings sprouting from its back. Swaying slightly, it blinks disoriented, before examining its surroundings, itself, and eventually, the man holding him. Watches him with wide golden eyes.

The man smiles at his creation, but the smile is sly, almost hungry, as if not seeing the creature but the power it holds. Reaching up, the man strokes a finger down its head, before placing it and the brooch in the depths of his cloak. He pulls his hood up, look around him for witnesses, before stealing away into the darkness of the night, leaving nothing but a disintegrated feather, scattered in the wind.

 

 


	2. Chapter 1

"Cataclysm!"

Feeling the power course through his body and into his hand, Chat dashes across the wall of the overpass, dragging his claws along the supports. The destructive power corrodes the metal, and the supports groan, buckling under their own weight. Dust rains down, preceding the impending collapse, and Chat is just about to make another swipe at the akuma when a flash of red in the corner of his eye catches his attention.

Turning, he has time to register the gleam from Alya's camera before the entire bridge shakes, collapsing under its own weight. With his attention diverted, the akuma manages to dart out from the collapsing overpass, but he's so afraid for Alya that he doesn't notice. He hollers a warning, but it comes too late, and she disappears under a pile of rubble. He faintly hears his lady give a strangled cry, but he's already dropping to the floor next to the ruins.

The dust clears, and Chat sees Alya, pinned from the waist down by debris. She's still conscious, but she's crying with pain, and he can see a small pool of blood gathering by her side. He curses, desperately yanks at the concrete, but even with all his strength (which is considerable), he can't take enough of the weight for Alya to drag herself out.

He hears the akuma roar behind him, forcing his hand. Jamming an iron bar under the wreckage to alleviate some of the weight from her legs, he mutters an apology before launching himself up and out of the debris, in time to tackle the akuma out of the air as is flies towards Ladybug. Crashing to the ground, Chat wrestles his way to the akuma's back, pinning his arms, and Ladybug snatches the cursed object, crushing it beneath her foot. She captures the black butterfly, and, he notices, looks over the wreckage of the overpass as she call on her Miraculous Cure. The bright red light washes over them, the akuma victim, and finally the overpass, and Chat holds his breath.

When it clears, the overpass is repaired, and Alya is lying beneath it. She presses a hand to her thigh, before shakily rising to her feet, testing her weight. Her legs remain strong beneath her, and Chat lets out an unconscious breath of relief.

(And, he notices, so does Ladybug)

No matter how much faith he has in his Lady's abilities, seeing a civilian hurt in their fights never ceases to scare him. Many a nightmare has plagued him, as he tries desperately to protect his friends only for his efforts to prove useless as they're ripped away from him. Alya, Nino, his father, even Marinette, sweet, kind, gentle Marinette... Today was almost his nightmares incarnate, and, not for the first time, he thanks any higher being for his Lady's healing powers.

He turns towards said Lady, offering her a relieved smile as he raises his fist for their signature bump. But it quickly drops as his Lady turns away from him, tossing her bandalore around a nearby post before swinging herself up onto a nearby rooftop. Quickly, he takes his staff and vaults up after her.

Never, in all their years working together, has his Lady ever run from him like that. Sometimes, after he's thrown himself between her and danger again, she'll hug him instead. If she's feeling sad, she'll hug herself, avoiding his eyes. If she's feeling particularly frustrated or annoyed, she'll deny his fist bump, but she's always stayed to at least talk.

So, either something in her personal life is urgently demanding her attention, or he has screwed up royally.

"My Lady!"

She glances back of him, and he's startled to see angry tears in her eyes.

The odds that he's screwed up somehow just went up exponentially.

Pushing himself even harder, he darts after her, determined to fix whatever he's done now before it escalates. Swinging himself around a corner, he almost crashes into Ladybug, who's stopped on a rooftop not far from his house. He steadies himself, and almost grabs her, before he notices the tension in her shoulders. She's hugging herself, and she's gently trembling, but she still somehow looks ready to tear him limb from limb if he doesn't handle this properly.

He settles for quietly clearing his throat to make her aware of his presence. She stiffens, shoulders raised defensively, but doesn't turn around, rather watching him over her shoulder from the corner of her eye.

"Ladybug..."

Her head snaps back to the front, and he takes a step towards her. She whirls around, suddenly furious, and he raises his arms in surrender.

"My Lady..?"

"Don't my Lady me. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I- I don't know?"

"Do you even think for a second before you act? Do you ever consider that just maybe your actions could affect someone other than yourself? Do you even care?"

"I-"

"No, of course you don't. Because everything's all about you, right? Chat's got to be flashy, Chat's got to show off, Chat's got to be reckless. And so what if it's dangerous? So what if people could get hurt? Who cares? This is all a game to you, isn't it? It's all for fun. All you do is make stupid puns and flirt."

"Well, you can hardly blame me, my jokes are purrfect" he jokes, in a bid to lighten the mood.

She just shakes her head. "There you go again, even in the middle of an argument. You can't, for a second, take things seriously, can you?"

It isn't a question

"What? Of course I can! Ladybug, what's going on?"

"What's going on?! You're putting people in danger just because you can't be bothered to take three seconds to think before you act! Aly- a civilian got hurt because of your recklessness!"

Chat flinches, fiddling with his ring. "My Lady, I swear I didn't mean- I don't- I didn't think I'd be putting anyone in danger, I-"

She cuts him off. "Exactly, Chat. You didn't think. Look what it almost cost us. And this isn't the first time."

It's true. Recently, akuma battles have yielded more and more casualties, with only Ladybug's Miraculous Cure saving them. And an unsettling number of them are not a result of an akuma's blow, but collateral damage of Chat Noir's claws, or his Cataclysm. Although Plagg insists that there was nothing he could've done to avoid it, Adrien is still plagued with guilt that is only slightly lifted when the wounded are healed.

He bows his head. "I'm sorry"

She scoffs "Sorry doesn't help us here, does it? People were still put in danger. Unnecessarily."

Her miraculous beeps in warning. She unhooks her bandalore. Looks him dead in the eye. "When you're ready to take this seriously, come find me. Until then, don't even try to call. I'll be better off alone."

She tosses her bandalore, swinging off into the night, leaving behind a broken and confused young man in the summer night to slowly make his way home, alone.

* * *

 

As soon as she lands, Marinette is washed in a faint pink light as her transformation leaves her. Lowering herself into her room, she drops softly to her bed, before climbing quietly down the ladder. She grabs a towel, underclothes, and a set of pyjamas, and is about to walk to the bathroom for a shower when Tikki flies into her face.

And she doesn't look happy.

Although she knows very well what's bothering the small red kwami, she plays dumb. "What?"

Tikki just looks at her sternly.

She sighs. Drops the act. "What was I supposed to do? Just say nothing and let people get hurt?"

Tikki just shakes her head, floating over to the plate of cookies left out for her without a word. Huffing, Marinette marches to the bathroom, but before she can get there, she's interrupted. By what appears to be a... screen?

Stumbling back, she holds up her towel as if it would protect her from the unknown intruder. When she doesn't suffer an immediate painful demise, she peeks out from behind her towel, only to be met by a pair of amused grey eyes beneath a brown hood. He's an image on a painting-sized screen that appears to be made up of a mist of some sort, hovering in front of her.

"Hello, Ladybug"

She examines him warily. "Um, hi? Wait, you know I'm Ladybug?"

"Of course. We are the ones who gave your miraculous to you."

She shoots a look at Tikki, who nods in confirmation, but for some reason, doesn't move into view.

She looks back at the man. Her brows furrow. "We? Who's 'We'?"

"The Miraculous Council, of course. We're responsible for all the miraculous. Yours and Chat Noir's included"

At the mention of Chat, Marinette bristles in annoyance, but calms herself with a breath, choosing to focus on the man in front of her.

"And who are you?"

"You may call me Victor. I represent the council."

"And what do you want?"

"Want? Oh, nothing. I'm simply here on behalf of the council to ask your opinion."

"My opinion? About what?"

"Simply put, a new Miraculous. We're planning on possibly assigning a new wielder to help you."

She considers this. "And why do you need me for that?"

"Well, we don't need it, I suppose, but we wanted to take your opinion into account. If you don't want it, we will simply assign it somewhere else. But I think it will benefit you."

Something off about his tone implies that he wants her to accept his proposal, that he might proceed with it regardless of her answer, but she pushes that thought to the back of her mind. Focuses on the decision at hand.

She weighs her options. On one hand, dealing with her existing partner can be exhausting at times. If the newcomer proves to be troublesome, she doesn't know how she'll handle it. And she runs the risk of them not getting along with herself or Chat. On the other hand, the recent casualties creeping back into her mind, she considers the potential upsides. A third party could help them with restraining akuma's away from civilians, or evacuating said civilians should the need arise. The guilt from seeing Alya wounded solidifies her decision.

"Alright, Victor. We could use the help"

Victor's eyes seem to flash triumphantly, but it's replaced by a stoic look and nod so quickly she's sure she imagined it. "So you, Ladybug, agree to instate the new miraculous as a new partner?"

The odd wording throws her off, but she manages a "Yes, I agree"

Victor smiles "Very well. Thank you for your time" he says, before swiping a hand across the screen, which goes white, a pale gas dissipating into nothing.

She blinks, startled by the sudden end to the message, before shaking her head, continuing her trek to the washroom. She thinks back to Alya's wounds, wincing, before her anger returns full force as she remembers her argument with Chat.

"Stupid, reckless cat" she mutters, stripping off her clothes and stepping into the stream of warm water. She stands there fuming for a few minutes, before her words catch up to her and the guilt sets in.

She knows she's being unfair to Chat. She knows that the casualties aren't his fault. She knows he's trying his best, that his jokes are his way of coping, that he probably feels just as much guilt as she does, if not more.

And, if she's honest with herself, it isn't him she's upset with.

She's upset with Alya for following them into danger for the sake of a stupid video. She's upset with Hawkmoth for being so evil, sending out his akumas without a thought for the city's safety. She's upset with her parents, and her teachers, because it's so hard to maintain a decent grade when half your life is spent trying to stop angry civilians being possessed by evil butterflies. And most of all, she's upset with herself. For failing to protect Alya and the other civilians. For making stupid mistakes during recent fights. For letting her grades slip so far her parents received a letter of concern.

She rests her head against the wall, closing her eyes.

And now she's gone and taken her anger out on the one person who's probably the least to blame. Every time he used Cataclysm, every attack he made, was at her command. He's never once gotten upset at her, even with how tetchy she's been recently. And she's seen the look on his face every time a civilian get hurt or put in danger, even when he thinks she doesn't. And she feels terrible.

"I'm an idiot" she sighs sadly. She shuts off the water, drying herself off and changing into her sleepwear. She vows to apologize to Chat for her irrational behavior next time she sees him, and chew Alya out for doing something so dangerous, but for now, she's too tired to think about anything but her bed.

Walking into her room, she sees Tikki finish off the last cookie. Holding out her hand, she looks at the floor. Sensing the young girls regret, Tikki flies over and lands in her hand, accepting the girl's silent apology. Marinette smiles, stroking a finger down Tikki's head, and Tikki nuzzles her finger in response. Transferring the small deity to her shoulder, Marinette climbs up the ladder of her bed, curling up under the blankets.

As she slips into unconsciousness, she has a faint feeling that something is wrong, but sleep claims her before it registers.

* * *

 

The mist dissipates, scattered by Victor's hand. He looks around triumphantly at the eleven others in the room, who sit in a semi-circle in front of him. Some are men, others women, but all are grey with age, withered faces and cracking skin.

The Miraculous Council.

"You see?" he asks, gesturing to where the cloudy screen once was. "Ladybug needs more help! You must allow me to send my Miraculous to help her"

The council looks at him, each other, and finally the golden brooch in his hand. Even from where they sit, they can feel the energy radiating from the accessory. It's certainly powerful. More powerful than they've seen in awhile.

One of the women on Victor's right speaks up. "Victor, we don't doubt that your new Miraculous is powerful. But we can't simply accept it into the order. Even ignoring the fact that its creation was unauthorized." She gives him a hard look "You want to send it to assist Ladybug. But you, of all people, know that the order of the miraculous can only contain 7 members at any given time. Ladybug and Chat Noir being the core two."

Victor rolls his eyes. "Yes yes, I'm aware. I do not require a history lesson"

The woman narrows her eyes. "Then surely you know that Ladybug cannot work with just anyone. They must be bonded. If we were to accept your Miraculous, we would-"

"-Need to remove Chat Noir and bind the new Miraculous to Ladybug. Yes, I know. That is what I'm proposing."

A dead silence falls on the room.

A man on Victor's left speaks. "You're proposing we decommission Chat Noir? Victor, I understand your concern for Ladybug's wellbeing, but Chat Noir has been her partner since the Miraculous were created. They've fought together for thousands of years, and-"

"More than that."

A new voice comes from behind Victor, and he turns to see Master Fu standing behind him, Wayzz hovering by his ear. Victor sneers, before forcing a straight face.

"What are you doing here, old man?"

Fu ignores the annoyed tone, looking over the council silently. Looking back to Victor, he sets his jaw. "Ladybug and Chat Noir are more than just long-standing partners. They were created to complement each other. Good luck and bad luck. Creation and destruction."

Victor rolls his eyes. "Old man, I think you're just jealous that someone made a Miraculous to challenge yours.

Fu narrows his eyes. "This has nothing to do with jealousy. It has to do with the delicate balance the two hold. I can guarantee you that without Chat Noir, Ladybug will be doomed to fall, regardless of how powerful you claim your new Miraculous is."

Victor scoffs. "I claim it is? Old man, you must be blind. Anyone can feel the power it holds. It's spiritual entity is an eagle. Do you know what an eagle's symbolism is? Victory and Freedom. Pair that with Ladybug's good luck, and I can guarantee that they'll be unstoppable. Hawkmoth will be brought to his knees, and the world will be safe from anyone who dares to challenge them."

Master Fu shakes his head. "Fool. You're blinded by power and your own ego. You refuse to see the big picture." He looks at the council. "I implore you; removing Chat Noir will upset a delicate balance, one that could lead to the demise of all we stand for-."

Victor cuts him off. "Old man, you've said your piece. Might I remind you that you chose to forfeit your spot on the council to continue wielding your Miraculous? So you have no right to tell the council what decision they should be making."

Turning back to face the council, he spreads his hands. "My lords and ladies, I urge you all to accept my proposal, not only for the sake of Ladybug, but for the good of the world and all we stand for. I have nothing but good intentions, and I fear if we do not act now, it will be too late."

The man in the centre, the oldest of them all, strokes his beard. "It will be put to a vote. All in favour?"

A number of the younger members raise their hands.

"All opposed?"

He, and the older members raise their hands.

The old man looks at Victor reluctantly. "Very well. The council has spoken. We will proceed with your plan as you have described them. The ceremony to replace Chat in the coffer will take place immediately"

* * *

 

Miles away, in two separate bedrooms, two teenagers' sleep deeply, blissfully unaware of how their lives have changed. Two small creature lie by their heads, also unaware of any changes.

Until they're jolted awake simultaneously as they feel something jolt through them.

It's subtle, but they both feel their tiny stomachs drop.

The bond is broken.

The partnership is gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is one big experiment for me, so I hope you guys are enjoying it.
> 
> I'm not quite sure where the plot is going, but it's definitely going somewhere.
> 
> Please direct any questions to my tumblr, under the same name.
> 
> Thanks
> 
> ~TDR


	3. Chapter 3

When Marinette wakes, up, she doesn’t notice anything different.

The sun is shining, birds are singing, and she feels more rested than she has in awhile. She sits up, stretching, before clambering out of bed to get ready for the day. School let out only a week ago, but the bakery’s had a huge influx of customers celebrating the start of summer break, and her parents need all hands on deck. Later, if time allows, she’s planning on going out, maybe with Alya, but she’s not in any particular rush.

She hums happily, brushing her hair, before stilling momentarily. The feeling from last night that something’s wrong returns, but she shrugs it off as guilt from her argument with Chat. Vowing to hunt him down and apologize, she resumes brushing, and by the time she’s done, the feeling is gone.

Grabbing her purse, she’s surprised by its lightness. Tikki’s usually ready and waiting by the time she is. She scours the room, and finds the small red deity sitting on the windowsill.

“Tikki?” She calls questioningly.

Tikki turns to her and Marinette’s taken aback by the distressed look on her face. But before she can ask, it’s gone, replaced by the small beings usual cheeriness. “Oh, Marinette, I’m sorry. I was just lost in thought. We can go now.”

Floating over to the purse, Tikki settles herself in, closing the snap behind her. Marinette isn’t quite convinced, but she lets it slide. Walking to the trapdoor, Marinette quickly walks down to the bakery, where she finds her parents already swamped in orders, aprons coated in flour. Smiling, she shrugs on her own apron, joining the fray, Tikki’s odd behaviour quickly fading from her mind.

* * *

 

When Adrien wakes up, he doesn’t notice anything different either.

Jolted awake by Nathalie’s harsh calls, he scrambles out of bed. Somehow, he’s slept through his alarm. He’s _never_ slept through his alarm. Tossing Plagg a wedge of camembert, he dashes to the bathroom, furiously brushing his teeth and attempting to wrestle a comb through his hair. In his haste, he knocks over the glass brush container, shattering it. Cursing, he sweeps it to the side with a towel, offering a silent apology to the maid who’ll end up cleaning it up. When he’s done, he dashes into the closet, throwing on his standard outfit. Unfortunately, he trips numerous times, sending boxes and hangars crashing to the ground.

By the time he’s ready, he’s so frazzled he doesn’t even notice that Plagg hasn’t even _touched_ his cheese. When he notices his charge emerge from the bathroom, Plagg flies up to his face. “Adrien, I need to tell-“

Grabbing Plagg out of the air, Adrien almost shoves him into the inside of his over shirt. “Sorry Plagg, it’s going to have to wait. I’m in a rush”

He hears a muffled “But-“before it cuts itself off. “Fine” Plagg relents, settling in to try and figure out just how he’s going to explain to his young charge that he’s likely been replaced.

Adrien smiles, relieved. “Thanks, bud”

Grabbing his modelling outfit for today’s shoot, his fencing bag for later, as well as another wheel of camembert for Plagg, he dashes out the door, sheepishly avoiding Nathalie’s hard gaze as he passes.

His Father’s already out, so only his bodyguard greets him at the limo, silently opening the door. Thanking him, Adrien drops into his seat, sighing. It’s been one of the roughest mornings in awhile, and he can only hope the rest of the day will go smoother.

* * *

 

Marinette can’t remember the last time a day’s gone so smoothly.

It’s been one of the busiest day’s she can remember, but in spite of the frenzied atmosphere, they’ve served every customer flawlessly. She usually can’t go a shift without burning herself, or dropping something, or stepping on/in something, but today she’s been impeccable. In fact, the day’s gone so smoothly that her parents wave her away at lunch, declaring that they can manage on their own for the rest of the day. Her protests waved off, she calls Alya, and, finding her free, they decide to meet at the park before deciding what to do with the afternoon.

As she’s getting ready, she can’t help but notice Tikki’s distressing demeanor. The small creature hasn’t spoken much, and as she’s walking to the park, Marinette considers her friend’s odd behaviour. Despite how smoothly the day has run, and how she’s usually been her cheery self, there have been odd moments in the back of the bakery where Marinette’s checked on the kwami only to find her miserable and silent. One time she was even crying. She hasn’t gotten the chance to ask what’s wrong, and while Tikki’s told her that it _might_ be nothing, she isn’t convinced.

Arriving at the park, she sees Alya sitting on a bench, on her phone. Probably working on the Ladyblog. Marinette smiles, before yesterday’s events come back to her. Eyebrows furrowing, she takes a deep breath, puffing out her chest and stomping over to the brunette. Sensing her approach, Alya looks up in time to see one of the pigtailed-girls slender fingers poke her in the chest.

"Mari?"

"Alya, what the hell was that?"

"What was what?"

"You know very well, what. What were you _thinking_?"

"I might be able to tell you if I knew what you were _talking_ about."

"I'm talking about how you got a _freaking overpass_ dropped on you yesterday!"

"Oh" Alya swallows, knowing she's in trouble. "Mari, I-"

Marinette cuts her off. She’s been doing that a lot, recently. “Was it worth it? Was a _stupid_ video worth getting your legs crushed?” She continues her onslaught, repeatedly poking the brunette in the chest. “Alya, I know how much you love Ladybug, but this is getting ridiculous! You could’ve died, and-“

It’s Alya’s turn to cut her off. “Marinette!” She yells, grabbing the raven-haired girls shoulders. “Girl, I’m _fine_.” Reaching up, she grabs Marinette’s wrists, halting her poking assault. Marinette wrenches her hands from Alya’s grasp, but ceases poking, choosing to cross her arms over her chest. Alya raises her hands in surrender. “Ladybug’s cure fixed everything, didn’t it? Look, my legs are fine.” She stretches them out in front of her to demonstrate, bending and straightening her knees; flexing her feet.

Marinette still seems unconvinced, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “But what if it didn’t? What if your legs stayed broken and you had to get a cast and crutches, or what if your legs never healed and you had to be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life, and you had to drop off the volleyball team, and you’ll never get your dance with Nino, and-“

Alya bursts out laughing, and Marinette rambles to a stop and just _stares_ at her because _why is she laughing_ , _that is the_ last _thing I feel like doing._ Seeing the confused look on Marinette’s face, Alya just laughs harder, dragging the petite ravenette to her chest for a hug.

“Girl, you’re going to drive yourself insane with that ridiculous imagination of yours. You need to stop worrying about what _might’ve_ happened. I’m fine, you’re fine, Paris is safe, and at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.” She clutches her friend tighter, stroking a hand through her hair.

Marinette slowly relaxes, uncrossing her arms to wrap them around Alya’s waist. Squeezing, Alya releases Marinette, dragging her up to sit on the bench next to her. Rubbing her eyes, Marinette takes a deep breath to steady herself, before smiling weakly. “So, did you at least get any good footage after you gave me a heart attack?”

Alya’s face breaks into a huge grin. “Girl, like you wouldn’t believe!” Grabbing her phone, she’s about to bring up the Ladyblog when something catches her eye. She scrolls down, bringing the news headline to the top of the screen.

_Chat Noir: Help or Hindrance?_

Frowning, Alya clicks through, Marinette looking over her shoulder. An image of the collapsed overpass appears on the screen, and Chat Noir can be seen desperately trying to wrench the debris clear of Alya’s legs, while Ladybug takes on the akuma solo. The caption reads _Yesterday’s downtown akuma attack created a terrifying scene as a teenage girl was pinned from the waist down not by the akuma, but as collateral damage from Chat Noir’s claws._

Alya frowns as she reads the caption. Scrolling down, her frown grows.

_For a few years now, we’ve watched Ladybug and Chat Noir battle akumas, trusting them to stop the villains and keep us safe._

_Perhaps that trust was misplaced._

_Recently, akuma attacks have been far more dangerous, with many innocent people being injured in the chaos. However, the most disturbing fact is that many of these injuries are not a result of any akuma, but rather Chat Noir’s incompetence. Whether it be a mistimed Cataclysm, or a wild swing of his claws, his carelessness has put many people in danger, and many do not appreciate it._

_“I almost got crushed by a car when Chat Noir destroyed a car park." Said a fearful civilian who did not want to be identified "If it weren't for Ladybug's curing powers, I probably wouldn't be here today. At least, not in one piece"_

_This is only one of numerous stories that have sprung up recently. Others have fallen from unstable platforms, or been hit by debris, and one particularly scary incident resulted in a civilian being injured by being slashed by Chat Noir's own claws._

Marinette remembers that. The Blinder had been on a rampage, taking everyone's sight. Chat of course, had taken a hit meant for her, and while his powers prevented him from going fully blind, his vision had been limited to shadows and faint outlines, and he was forced to rely on his enhanced hearing. The man in question actually hadn't lost his sight, but had run up behind Chat as he was in the middle of fighting the Blinder. Unable to distinguish civilian from akuma, Chat had swung out blindly, catching the man across the shoulder. For once, luck was on Chat's side, and he only caught the man's clothes and a bit of skin, leaving a shallow gash. But from the way the man reacted, you'd have thought Chat had ripped his arm off. He had dropped to the floor, clutching his arm and screaming, which did _not_ help matters, considering Chat was relying so heavily on his hearing. By the time they had taken The Blinder down, both of the heroes were sporting extra bruises and pounding headaches.

_As the attacks grow more frequent, and casualties mount, we can only hope that Chat Noir will take his job seriously, or become more competent, and start acting like the hero he claims to be._

The author isn't listed.

By the time she's done reading, Marinette feels like the biggest jerk ever to walk the earth. This is what Chat woke up to? After she so rudely insulted him yesterday? She needs to find him and apologize, ASAP. Let him know that she's an idiot, that she didn't mean it, that it wasn't his fault. That she definitely _won't_ be better off alone. That she needs him; she won't be able to work with anyone else. And the worst part is, she can't remember the last time she told him that. She imagines that paper written about her, and she feels sick.

Alya, on the other hand, is _furious_.

"Who do they think they are? What gives them the right to criticize? Do _they_ save Paris on a regular basis?" She's gripping her phone like she's preparing to either crush it or whip it against the ground. "It's not _his_ fault I followed him under that overpass. He had no way of knowing I was there!”

Marinette stares at the brunette, surprised by the ferocity of the girl’s anger. “I didn’t know you liked Chat Noir that much.”

Alya looks offended. “Girl, I may run the Ladyblog, but Chat Noir is still one of Paris’s heroes. He’s responsible for saving and protecting the city just as much as she is, but I don’t think anyone gives him the same amount of credit. I mean, more often than not, he gets the short end of the stick because of his powers. He’s always distracting the akuma for Ladybug, taking hits for her and even for civilians. But people don’t see that, they only see Ladybug cleanse the akumas. Don’t get me wrong, I do love Ladybug as well, but Chat Noir deserves recognition as well!”

Marinette’s guilt grows, because Alya, who doesn’t even really know Chat, can still recognize and respect his efforts, while she, his partner, chewed him out and insulted him for something that wasn’t really his fault. She forces a smile look on her face, because she has no reason to feel guilty, as far as Alya knows.

“Maybe you should make a blog for him.”

Alya laughs. “I wish, but I can barely manage the Ladyblog. I wouldn’t have the time or energy.” Her laugh stops, as she looks at Marinette slyly.

Marinette is immediately on guard. “Alright, what are you thinking?” she asks warily.

“ _Well,_ a blog for Chat Noir is actually a brilliant idea. And just because _I_ can’t run it doesn’t mean _someone_ _else_ can’t. Someone who happens to know the best reporter in Paris, and who _also_ got to speak to Chat Noir face to face numerous times”

Marinette balks. “Alya, I couldn’t. I’m always late for school as it is, and I don’t have your way with the internet.”

Alya bumps her with her shoulder.  “Yeah, but your grades haven’t suffered any. They’ve only dipped recently because of the heavy workload, but that’s over and done with, so you’ll be fine. And really? My ‘way with the internet’? Girl, nobody has a ‘way’ with the internet. You just get on and start posting, and eventually, people will follow.”

The pigtailed girl is still hesitant. “I don’t know, Alya.”

The blogger smiles, patting her friend on the back. “Just think about it, okay?” Standing up, she turns to Marinette. “Hey, how about we take a walk? I heard Adrien-“

“-Is having a photo shoot at the edge of the Seine!” Marinette finishes excitedly, relieved at the change of subject, and delighted at the thought of catching Adrien’s shoot. The opportunity to see her crush, as well as new designs? “Let’s go!”

Grabbing her best friend’s hand, she drags her from the park towards the river, the blogger laughing as she stumbles after her.

* * *

 

Adrien can’t remember the last time a day’s gone this rough.

They had left just in time to get caught in the _worst_ traffic jam _ever._ By the time they arrived, they were almost an hour behind schedule. His feet had seemingly become magnetic overnight, catching ledges, cords, curbs, even other people’s legs. He’s tripped, stumbled, fallen over everything, and they had to redo almost every shot numerous times. He dropped his phone, cracking the screen, and halfway through the shoot, a pigeon had emptied it’s bowels on the shoulder of his shirt, so they had had to wait for a replacement, putting them either further behind. He had seen Marinette and Alya, which was nice, but he had been whisked away for fencing before he had a chance to talk to them.

He sighs, closing his bag and leaning against the wall. Fencing had gone a little better, his skill compensating  for his day’s terrible luck, but he had still managed to trip over nothing as he lunged, twisting his ankle. Luckily (or more appropriately, less unluckily) it wasn’t bad, but it was enough to force him to stop early, leaving him with a slight limp, his ankle tender.

Sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, he checks to confirm he’s alone before drawing Plagg out of his bag. The small black kwami had been unusually reserved all day, void of any sarcastic remarks or teasing. Most concerning is that he had barely touched his cheese. It was _camembert_. His _favourite_. _Nothing_ stopped Plagg from eating his cheese.

Cradling Plagg in one hand, he reaches into his bag, drawing out the wedge of cheese. Holding it in front of Plagg, he offers it to him silently. Plagg looks at it sadly, taking a small bite before pushing it away with a small paw.

Something is _definitely_ wrong.

Putting down the cheese, he moves to cradle the kwami in both hands. “Hey, bud, what’s going on? You alright?”

Plagg sits up in his hands, ears drooping. He’s avoiding Adrien’s eyes, fidgeting with his paws, and his tail is curled tensely. It’s something he only does when he’s scared, or nervous.

Adrien can’t tell which it is. It might be both.

“Adrien, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Adrien’s surprised. Plagg has never, ever been nervous to tell him something. Even if it’s rude, or offensive, or ridiculous, or just plain _weird_ , he’s always spoken his mind without censor. He nods silently, unsure of what to say.

Plagg takes a deep breath, before beginning. “Last night, I was woken up by a feeling in my gut. I thought I might have imagined it at first, or it was just a weird ache, but when I tried to contact Tikki, I couldn’t.”

Adrien’s brows furrow. “Tikki? Who’s Tikki?”

“Ladybug’s kwami. In all ways but physical, she’s my other half.”

“I take it you know each other well, then?”

Plagg laughs weakly. “Know each other? Kid, we were the original two miraculous. We were created together. We were created _for_ each other. We’ve been working together for millennia.” His demeanor drops again, ears drooping. “Or at least we used to”

“Used to? What do you mean, ‘used to’?”

Plagg looked at him sadly. “Adrien, Chat Noir was decommissioned last night”

Adrien feels his stomach drop. “ _What?!_ What do you mean, decommissioned?”

“I mean, the bond between me and Tikki is gone. I’m sure you’ve noticed how your luck has so quickly deteriorated? Without the bond, there’s nothing to counteract Chat’s bad luck, so you’re feeling the effects. I don’t know why, but the only way that could happen is if the coffer that contains the Miraculous has been altered in some way. Which can only be done by the Miraculous council.”

“The who?”

“The Miraculous council. They’re responsible for the assigning of the miraculous wielders, as well as monitoring the wielders to make sure they haven’t gone renegade or corrupt.”

Adrien goes pale. “Do they think _I’ve_ gone renegade? Do they think I’m trying to hurt civilians on _purpose_?”

Plagg shakes his head. “The council would understand that the collateral damage was unavoidable. Half the time it was the civilians own fault. So they wouldn’t decommission you for that.”

“Then why?”

Plagg fidgets, dropping his gaze. “Well, I have a possibility in mind. One that I don’t think you’d like.”

Adrien tenses. “Just tell me”

“Just don’t flip out, okay?”

“ _Plagg_ ”

Plagg jumps out of his hands “Alright, alright. Kid, I think you’ve been replaced”

The silence that follows is almost deafening.

Eventually, the teen finds his voice. “...Replaced? By who?”

Plagg shrugs sadly. “That, I don’t know. But I can sense another being that I’ve never sensed before. A powerful one.”

“More powerful than you? Is that why we’ve been replaced?”

“I don’t think so. It’s not more powerful than us, necessarily, but it is definitely different.”

Adrien sighs, dropping his head to rest against the wall. “So what happens now?”

Plagg drops down to sit on his knee. “I don’t know. You’ll probably have to give up your ring to the council. And then go back to live your life as you would normally. And not tell anyone.”

“Great. What about you?”

Plagg shrugs “Who knows? My powers will be removed, but I’ll still be me. I’ll end up sitting around eating cheese for the rest of my life.”

“I thought you were immortal?”

“When I have my powers. Without them, I’m essentially a normal cat. And, like normal cats, I’ll die eventually.”

Adrien feels a lump form in his throat. “Plagg...”

The black kwami rolls his eyes, a good sign he’s somewhat back to normal. “Don’t get sappy on me, kid. I’ve had a good run. It would’ve happened eventually. Maybe the council will let me stay with you for my retirement.”

Adrien laughs, imagining himself as an old man with an elderly Plagg still demanding cheese. There could be worse things. But that laugh drops quickly as a though occurs to him. “But what about Ladybug?”

Plagg considers the question. “I imagine she’s already been bound to the new Miraculous. So their powers and abilities will start to influence each other. The wielder of the new miraculous will start to get luckier, and Ladybug will start to become influenced by whatever powers the new miraculous holds.”

Adrien’s about to respond when a sudden wind blows through the room. Which is odd, considering the windows are closed. He looks up, and almost jumps when he sees what appears to be a grey screen made of fog above him. It gets thicker, and suddenly a hooded person with grey eyes is peering down at him.

“Hello, Chat Noir”

Adrien scrambles to his feet. “Who are you? How do you know I’m Chat Noir?”

The man laughs. “You will refer to me as Victor. I am here to inform you that by order of the Miraculous council, you have been decommissioned.”

Adrien narrows his eyes. The man, _Victor_ , has an edge to his voice that isn’t friendly. It’s sly, and somewhat triumphant, as if he’s gotten something he wanted and is just waiting for it to be delivered. “I am aware, Mr. Victor. My kwami has just informed me.”

Victor doesn’t seem fazed by Adrien’s curt tone, or maybe he simply doesn’t notice. “Excellent! That makes things much simpler, and saves me from having to explain. We will be sending a representative to collect your Miraculous within the next few days. Until then, please refrain from transforming into Chat Noir. It will make the transition process much easier.”

Adrien already feels like punching the man, but he takes a deep breath. Considering the screen is made of mist, it likely wouldn’t do anything anyway. He forces a neutral expression on his face. “Alright.” He says shortly, not trusting himself to hold his tongue for anything else.

Victor clasps his hands together, looking pleased. “Well, it’s nice to see that you’re civil, at least. Do you have any questions for me before I go?”

Adrien’s about to say _No, I have no questions, please leave_ before a nagging in the back of his head stops him. Instead, he asks “Does Ladybug know about Chat being replaced?”

Victor looks at him questioningly. “Of course. She agreed to it.”

Adrien feels his heart jolt. His Lady agreed to have him replaced? Was she really that upset with him? No, that had to be a lie. She needed him, didn’t she?

As if sensing his doubt, Victor pipes up “I have a recording of the conversation, if you need proof.”

Adrien doesn’t say anything, but Victor proceeds anyways, waving his hand and bringing up another screen. This one shows a pink room with a young teenage girl clutching a towel to her chest. Her face is obscured, but he would recognize those pigtails anywhere. He hears a recording of Victor’s voice ask _‘So you, Ladybug, agree to instate the new miraculous as a new partner?’_

Adrien stares at the girls concealed face, watching as she responds with a ‘ _Yes, I agree’_.

He wants to believe that it’s a lie. That he’s being tricked somehow. But that voice is too familiar, too distinct to be confused for anyone else.

He feels tears prick at his eyes, but her refuses to cry in front of Victor. Something tells him he’d almost enjoy that, and he won’t give him that satisfaction. “Alright, Victor. No more questions.” He swipes a hand through the mist before Victor can respond.

The room falls silent, the last wisps of the mist dissipating into thin air. Adrien leans his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling, before a gentle pressure on his shoulder catches his attention. He looks to see Plagg very timidly offering him a piece of his cheese. Smiling sadly, Adrien takes it, popping it in his mouth before rubbing his eyes tiredly. Opening his over shirt, he allows Plagg to fly in, just as he hears Nathalie call him. He reaches down, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and leave the room, closing the door behind him.

* * *

 

The night is dark.

Victor sweeps through the streets, sticking to back roads and alleys to avoid being seen. Or followed. He makes one turn, and then another, finding himself in front of a semi-detached house on the outskirts of the city. Checking that nobody is watching, he climbs over the fence, landing silently on the other side. Walking to the back door, he taps the lock with a finger.

The lock glows briefly, and the sound of a bolt moving can be heard. Quietly, he tests the door, and it swing into the house. Moving quickly, we walks through the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the furthest bedroom. A teenage boy lies in his bed, a tuft of long brown hair sticking up on end.

Victor examines the room. Plastered on the walls are posters for various American football teams, Denver, Texas, New York, as well as numerous muscle cars. A helmet and full suit of gear sit on a chair at the end of the bed. The desk is covered with assorted papers, as well as Football trophies and model cars. An American flag hangs proudly from the doorway of the closet. Quietly, he sets the box containing the golden brooch on the desk, before looking at the young teen and smiling. Quickly leaving the house, he taps the lock again, replacing the bolt, before clambering over the fence again and walking off.

Klaus. The name _means_ victory. And who better to wield the Eagle miraculous than an American, who holds the eagle as it’s national animal?

He smiles wickedly. Hawkmoth won’t know what hit him.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
